


I Ain't Got Time To Bleed

by icewhisper



Series: Holiday Cheer & Tears [23]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icewhisper/pseuds/icewhisper
Summary: Things were getting better. He could get out of bed without thinking about charred bodies and tiny caskets. He could know when he needed to call that shrink his old parole officer had set him up with. He could look at Lisa without thinking of the little kids and feeling sick.





	I Ain't Got Time To Bleed

Things were getting better. He could get out of bed without thinking about charred bodies and tiny caskets. He could know when he needed to call that shrink his old parole officer had set him up with. He could look at Lisa without thinking of the little kids and feeling sick.

Things were getting better and he was going to be okay. His family was gone, but he had Len in ways that still felt fresh and new. He had Lisa with her heart big enough to love him even if he’d taken her best friend away. It wasn’t the same and it’d never be like it was, but he was doing okay.

Len gave him half a smile, like he knew what Mick was thinking. Mick stuck his tongue out at him, too immature for someone about to turn nineteen, but it made Len laugh and bump up his shoulder against Mick’s. Because that was something he did now; he initiated touch with Mick in ways that used to make him look like he was going to crawl out of his skin. Mick didn’t think Len would ever be someone that wanted to walk down the street holding hands, but that was fine. Mick wasn’t sure he wanted that anyway. He saw the guys that did that and the looks they got. Maybe the world would be more okay with it eventually, but Central had a long way to go before that happened.

Besides, he was happy with the private, little thing that seemed to be starting. Kisses in dark corners of Mick’s apartment while Lisa watched cartoons on the TV that only worked if you gave it a hard smack at the top. Len curled up on the bed near him when they slept. Whatever it was, it was good as it was.

“What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re lookin’ at me weird,” Len told him, one eyebrow quirked up. “Don’t think you’re getting out of that movie. If I’ve gotta take Lisa to that Beauty & The Beast thing, you’re coming. I’m not suffering alone.”

“It’s a Disney movie. It can’t be that bad,” Mick laughed. “The fuck are you saying, anyway? You _like_ musicals.”

“Not animated ones-”

“Am I the only one that remembers you singing I’ve Got No Strings for a month?”

“It’s _Pinnochio_ ,” Len said, scandalized. “There’s a difference.”

“Yeah? What?”

Len opened his mouth to spout out what Mick was sure was bullshit, but he stopped suddenly, steps halting so quick that Mick knocked shoulders with him again. He followed Len’s gaze and…

What the fuck?

Four people were blocking the path out of the alley they’d been cutting through, decked out in some kind of armor like a fucked up Boba Fett. It would have been funny if it were Halloween, but it was three weeks too early and they were too old for trick-or-treat. He thought they were, at least. He couldn’t see any skin under all the armor, but their size…

He caught Len by the wrist and gave him a little tug backwards. Len didn’t fight him. He moved with Mick, back one step, then, two.

One of the people in the armor pointed a gun at them that looked nothing like Mick was used to. Handguns, he knew. Rifles, he knew. This was…

Len’s breath hitched beside him and Mick took a careful step in front of him. “Look, we’re not looking for any trouble. You want our wallets? Take ‘em,” he said, hands raised in what he hoped looked like a peaceful gesture. “No one’s gotta bring guns into this.” Especially not when his fucking gun was back at the apartment. He was never going anywhere unarmed ever again.

“Scans complete,” the one on the far left said, voice odd behind some kind of filter. It sounded almost robotic. “Michael Rory and Leonard Snart. Confirmed.”

Len hissed his name like it was supposed to be a warning. Mick knew what he didn’t say. These people weren’t going to just let them walk. They needed to run. The second they got an opening-

“The Time Masters will rise again,” another one said, this one on the far right. “Chronos cannot betray their cause if Chronos does not exist.”

“The Oculus cannot be destroyed if Leonard Snart does not exist,” the other one in the middle continued. If possible, Mick went even more tense. He didn’t know who or what Chronos was, but they were looking at Len and at him. Another gun got raised. Another. Another. All four were pointed at them and the one on the left barked at them to kneel.

They went slowly, hands raised still, and Mick spared a glance back towards Len. The guy was shaking. Then again, so was Mick. He tried to mouth at Len to not do anything stupid, but the second one of them stepped forward, Len lunged. He went for the gun, trying to knock it out of the person’s hands, but Len was scrawny. They were stronger.

The butt of the gun came down on his temple and Len hit the ground. Mick shouted what he only vaguely realized was Len’s name and watched blood start to stain pale skin.

“Fuck off,” he growled at them, raising back up to his feet as his hands curled into fists. He’d been trying to be careful with it, tried to give Len and him their best shot at getting out in one piece, but these fuckers weren’t looking to let them go and Len was bleeding.

Mick had a big problem with anyone that made Len bleed.

He darted forward, only doing marginally better than Len had. He couldn’t take a gun, but he managed to kick one out of someone’s hand and send it skittering under a dumpster. It was useless to him, but that made it useless to them too.

“Get away from him!” he shouted as one of them kicked Len hard in the chest and knocked him back to the ground. Len spit out blood.

Mick saw red.

He fought, forcing his way to Len until they were both standing and fighting back. Punches and kicks and Mick thought he may have broken one of his hands when he punched the armor at the wrong angle.

A gun went off and Mick fell.

“Mick!”

He couldn’t move. He could see Len fighting – could see Len _losing_ – and he had a moment to think that they were about to die.

Then, people showed up. A girl in white leather. A guy in a weird suit. A guy that shone like he was wearing some kind of armor too. Other people. More people. Fighting. Len shouted at some point and Mick heard the sounds of armor-heavy bodies falling.

“I think it hit his lung,” someone said as shadows appeared over him. “Listen to his breathing.”

“We gotta get him back.”

“The ship-”

He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t… His eyes looked around for Len, trying to peer around the bodies of the people kneeling with him. He saw him down near the dumpsters, rushing forward towards him until someone caught Len around the waist, tugging him back as he screamed, and-

Mick thought he knew him, thought the burly guy with the shaved head and bulky gun on his thigh looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. His vision was blurring and Len was fighting the guy’s grip until he injected something into Len’s neck and he went limp.

He went limp.

Panic shot through him and he tried to move – tried to get to Len, because they’d drugged him, they’d fucking _drugged him_ – but hands held him down. He heard someone swear.

There was a pinch at his neck and everything went dark.

 

 

He woke up in a hospital with Len’s fingers tangled with his. He looked at him, mouth dry and lips cracked, and tried to think. Everything was blurry, but his chest hurt and Len looked banged up. “Lewis?” he croaked out.

Len shook his head slowly. “We got mugged. I don’t… You got shot. Some gang in these fucked up getups.” His voice sounded as hoarse as his own. “I don’t…” He trailed off, fingers touching the bandage near his temple. “Everything’s fuzzy.”

“Me too.” He swallowed, trying to remember, but everything felt like some kind of dream. “You okay?”

“Concussion. Someone’s knife caught me. I’m fine.”

“You always say you’re fine.”

The smile Len gave him was sad. “Quit worryin’ about me. You’re the one that got shot.” He sucked in a breath that sounded shaky. “First time you get shot, it’s not even on a job.”

“We can tell people it was.”

Len laughed, something wet and a little hysterical, and clutched his hand tighter.

The End


End file.
